Harry Potter and the Lost Captain
by Menecarkawan
Summary: AU,HBP spoilers,Star Trek NG Xover:Harry and friends are confused when some wizards spouting odd technobabble somehow Apparate onto the school grounds. Are they in league with Voldemort? Intentionally or not, Hogwarts may be open to the Death Eaters.
1. Chapter 1

**_Harry Potter and the Lost Captain_**

**Required disclaimer: Story contains characters that are owned by others, including J.K. Rowling and Paramount Pictures. **

Harry Potter, famous in the wizarding world for his inexplicable defeat of He Who Must Not Be Named, could not imagine a better life than the one he enjoyed part-time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He spent his days learning magic spells and playing the game of Quidditch.

Wizarding life wasn't perfect, of course. His fame for an event he did not remember brought him much annoyance, and there was an evil wizard whose very name was feared, who wanted Harry dead. But Harry was willing to accept this if it meant he could get away from his relatives the Dursleys and the boring Muggle world for most of the year.

Harry could not imagine a better life. In spite of this, in four days' time, he would be tempted to abandon the magical community forever.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were on their way to Hagrid's whilst trying to solve the latest mystery of Voldemort. Hermione's latest clue seemed like it would be sure to uncover what Dumbledore was either intentionally hiding from them, or what he was simply not smart enough to notice. Hermione was a very clever witch.

Harry, on the other hand, was not blessed with the gift of intellect. "Filch has it in for us," said Harry.

"Filch _always_ has it in for us," replied Ron.

Harry was very good at a few things. For example, he was one of the best broomstick pilots in England, he could perform a Patronus Charm better than most adult wizards, and he was a Parsel-Mouth, possessing the very rare ability to speak to snakes. He wasn't very good at much else, however. He was prone to making pointless statements such as: "I don't think Snape likes us very much, either." Perhaps he was just trying to make conversation.

"Oh, gee Harry, when did you figure _that_ out?" quipped Ron.

Just then, there was a sound like someone rubbing their fingers on the rims of several crystal wine glasses at once, and there were 5 pillars of golden, shimmering light before them. The pillars of light took the forms of people. Harry, Ron, and Hermione took out their wands. How could five wizards have Apparated onto the school grounds?

"Stupefy!" said Harry, aiming the spell at the youngest of the wizards, who had pasty-white skin. The spell seemed to have no effect. The man continued as if nothing had happened, waving a beige electric shaver in the air, and saying "This is the source of the fluctuating, gravimetric, subspace anomaly. I believe that if I reconfigure my tricorder, and crosslink my phaser beam with it, we can create a positronic, tachyon emission that will penetrate the anomaly." He had a pronounced American accent.

"Harry, I don't think they can see us," Ron said.

The woman with the long, black hair screwed up her face.

The bald man then said "Make it so." The one with the white skin took out what looked like a telly changer, put it next to the shaver, and then a white beam came out of the shaver, and a red beam came out of the changer. Where the two beams intersected, they formed a bright blue beam. There was a sound: _wewewewewewewewewe_. The blue beam stopped just short of where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were standing. There were the beginnings of a transparent disc forming at the end of the blue beam.

"Do you think they're Muggles, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Blimey, Hermione! Of _course_ they're not Muggles! Just look at that!" To Harry, what he was seeing looked an awful lot like magic. Muggles weren't capable of anything as cool as what he was now witnessing.

The bald man noticed the woman's screwed-up face, and asked, "Troi, what's wrong?" To this, the woman responded "I'm sensing a strong feeling of apprehension, right in front of us."

The disc grew until it was wide enough for all five of the people to walk into it. The edges of the disc bent light, like a prism. The bald man and the white one made eye contact with Harry, who was still holding up his wand.

"Good work, Data," said the bald man.

"They appear to be young humanoids," said Data, referring to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and waving his electric shaver at them.

Harry demanded of the five, "Who are you!" But before anyone could answer, Harry waved his wand around and said, "_Petrificus Totalus!_" The bearded man standing to the bald man's left, who had not said anything up to this point, stiffened up and fell to the ground.

The woman screwed up her face even more.

"Battle stations! Hail the enemy ship!" said the bald man.

"Bloody hell!" said Ron.

"Captain, we do not appear to be on the _Enterprise_," said Data.

The Captain replied, "Oh, right then. Phasers on stun!"

Data interjected again, "Captain, I believe that if I set my phaser on 'vaporise', reconfigure my tricorder, and shoot Commander Riker with both of them for precisely 22.50034 seconds, I can penetrate the fluctuating, gravimetric, subspace distortion that is binding him," referring to the petrified man. "But if I shoot him for even a trillionth of a second longer than that, he'll be killed!"

The woman fell to the ground, her eyes squeezed shut, her face screwed up so hard it looked like it was about to break. She gave a soft moan.

"Make it so," said the Captain.

Harry was astounded at this wacky display. Every time the "Captain" would talk, the one they called "Data" would spout off a bunch of nonsensical technobabble. He demanded to know, once again: "Who _are_ you?"

"Troi, what's wrong now?" asked the Captain.

"I think I'm having an orgasm!" Harry felt his underpants shrinking rapidly.

While Data was busy shooting Commander Riker, the Captain finally responded: "I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship, _Enterprise_. What have you done to my first officer, and what did you do with Starfleet Headquarters?"

Just then, they all heard what sounded like 30 flags flapping in the wind. Harry turned around to see if it was an American, aware of how fond they are of anything made of cloth that hangs from a staff. Instead, it was Snape, the flapping sound was made by his robes.

"No Muggles are allowed on the school grounds! Potter, you and your friends, along with the rest of Gryffindor House, all have detention!" He was almost running towards them. He then took out his wand, flicked it at the Captain and his men (and the woman too), and said "_Redacto!_"

"They disappeared!" said the Captain, apparently unable to see Snape, Harry, Ron, or Hermione.

"Captain! It appears as if we are on the outside of the gravimetric, fluctuating, subspace anomaly again!" Data did his trick again with the shaver and the telly changer. Snape cast the "_Redacto_" charm again. This went on for about half an hour, while Harry, Ron, and Hermione escaped to Hagrid's house.

Inside Hagrid's house, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had some tea. Hagrid asked, "So what brings yeh out here on a nice day like this?"

"Voldemort, what else?" responded Harry. Everyone in the room flinched. The woman outside screwed up her face for a moment.

"Oh," said Hagrid. "I thought yeh just wanted ter have some tea with yer friend Hagrid, but yeh just came out ter blather about him again."

"Harry!" said Hermione scoldingly. She turned to Hagrid, saying "I apologise for his rude behavior."

Then Ron blurted out, "Snape just gave all the Gryffindors detention because some bald man who calls himself 'Captain' Apparated onto school grounds!"

"Dumbledore will get us out of that," said Harry. "After all, the fucking cocksucker owes me _total, lifelong obedience_ for getting Sirius killed!"

Just then, the door opened. It was Malfoy, leading the Captain and his men (and the woman, too). "_That's_ him! That's the one you're looking for!" Draco was pointing at Harry. Harry felt his pants shrinking again at the sight of the woman. He was thinking of the orgasm he watched her have outside.

"Bloody hell!" said Ron.

The Captain, with an angry look to his face, said "Q! I knew you were behind this! I demand to know what you did with Starfleet Headquarters!"

"I'm sorry, but my name is Harry, not Queue," Harry did not know that the Captain was saying "Q" and not "Queue", because both are pronounced the same way.

"I'm sorry," said Hagrid, "but I don't know what yeh mean when yeh say 'Starfleet Headquarters.' Yer at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the finest wizardin' school there is!"

The Captain did not seem to comprehend what Hagrid had just said. "What did this man just say? He seems to have a severe speech impediment."

With that, Hagrid jumped on top of the Captain, and began stomping him into the floor.

"It appears that a large man is stomping you into the floor, Captain!" Data commented.

The Captain gasped his words between Hagrid's footsteps: "A large (umph!) man (humph!) _IS_ stomp-(ughff)ing me! Get him off me!"

"It appears that you are instructing me to remove the man who appears to be stomping you. What's wrong, Troi?"

"Pain! Terrible (oof!) pain!" said Troi, her face screwing up in sync with Hagrid's footsteps. Her "pain" face looked just like her "orgasm" face. Harry seemed to be hiding his pelvis behind a chair.

"What kind of pain?"

"Like a (umph!) large m(uff)-man stom(huff!)ping me into (ughf) the floor!"

"But there does not appear to be a large man stomping you! He appears to be stomping only the Captain to death!" Data waved his electric shaver at Hagrid and the Captain, with a puzzled look on his face. "My tricorder reading shows that there actually _is_ a large man there, and that the Captain actually _is_ under him. It also shows that the large man's foot is making a stomping motion, kind of like this," he imitated Hagrid's stomping of the Captain, in slow motion, "and that it _really is_ impacting the Captain's body, with considerable force. I'm beginning to believe that our Captain might be in some kind of danger! Perhaps if I can generate a posimetric subspace tachyon beam, I can determine if any real danger exists. But I'm going to have to call Geordi to figure out how to do that."

Meanwhile, the Captain was still being stomped into the floor by a large man. "Number One! Help me!"

Data responded: "Do you require assistance urinating, Captain, or are you asking Commander Riker to assist you in fighting off the man that actually is stomping you to death?"

Finally, the bearded man got out his telly changer and shot a red beam at Hagrid, who continued to stomp the Captain. The bearded man was joined by a very tall Black man with a badly deformed forehead in shooting what looked like two Stupefy curses at Hagrid. This wasn't enough, either. Soon, all of them except Data were attempting to Stupefy Hagrid. They finally succeeded. The Captain rolled out from under Hagrid, picked up Hagrid's kettle from the fireplace, and threw it at Data, who fell to the floor with it. Data said: "Oh, dear! I don't believe that this floor is entirely stable!"

The Captain was visibly upset with Data. "Get up, you stupid bucket of bolts!" He turned his attention back to Harry. "Now, Q, what have you done with---"

"I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT YOUR BLOODY STARFLEET HEADQUARTERS! NOW I HAVE BIGGER THINGS TO WORRY ABOUT! LIKE GETTING VOLDEMORT IN THE SAME ROOM WITH DUMBLEDORE SO I CAN KILL THEM BOTH AND BLAME DUMBLEDORE'S DEATH ON VOLDEMORT! AND QUIT CALLING ME QUEUE!"

"How DARE you use the Dark Lord's name!" blurted Draco. Draco jumped across the room, landed on Harry's chest, and started beating the living shit out of him. Then he remembered that nobody was supposed to know that he was a Death Eater, let alone Harry Potter himself. He got off of Harry, kneeled down into the fetal position, and cried out, "MY LORD, I'M SORRY! PLEEEASE DON'T PUNISH ME!" Draco sat there and sobbed.

"I'll punish you for setting that stupid Captain on me!" said Harry. He flicked his wand at Draco, and said, "_Reducio!_" Draco shrunk to the size of a rat. Then Harry prepared to stomp him.

"_Engorgio!_" said Hermione, undoing Harry's curse. Harry's foot landed on Draco's hip. "Nice try, Potty!" taunted Draco.

The Captain was now ready to take care of business, once and for all. "You're coming with me, Q, and you're going to restore Starfleet Headquarters!"

But Hermione, remembering the spell cast by Professor Snape just moments earlier, said "_Redacto!_" The Captain and his men suddenly began to glow very brightly, as though sunlit. You see, they were now outside.

Harry decided to get one more peep-show out of the woman. He cast the spell "_Orgasmo_" at her, and she collapsed again, clasping her thighs together.

"Come on, Harry!" urged Hermione. "We have to get back to the castle before they see us again!" On his way out, Harry flicked his wand at Draco, whispering "_Reducio Penis._" Harry, Ron, and Hermione returned to the castle, and Snape quickly found them.

"Petrifying a Muggle?" spat Snape. "Perhaps you would like to become one, Potter. Give me your wand."

Harry hesitated.

"_Give_ me your wand, you insolent little brat, or you'll wish you were never born." Snape grabbed Harry by the forearm and wrenched the wand from his grip. Unfortunately, from Snape's point of view, Dumbledore's authority was required in order to have Potter expelled. At the Gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office, Snape said "Stawberry Pumpernickels," and the Gargoyle moved. Snape ushered Harry onto the moving staircase.

In Dumbledore's office, Snape appeared to actually be smiling. "I just witnessed Potter petrifying a Muggle," he gloated. "He is well on his way to a life of crime, just like his godfather, who is thankfully dead."

Wandless Harry gritted his teeth. If only he could get the wand, he could cast the Killing Curse on Snape for saying that.

"I trust that you will do the right thing, which is to turn him in to the proper authorities. I have confiscated his wand." Snape handed the wand to Headmaster Dumbledore.

"Have you anything to say in your defence, Harry?" said Headmaster Dumbledore.

But Snape interrupted: "What defence can there possibly be for this crime? It is cut and dried. Potter should be expelled at once, and sent to Azkaban."

Harry couldn't take it anymore. "SHUT UP! _YOU_ belong in Azkaban, you bloody Death Eater!"

"_Excuse_ me, Severus, but _I_ am the headmaster of Hogwarts. Now Harry?"

Harry answered: "Those were no Muggles! They were wizards! They Apparated onto the school grounds. They tried to kidnap me! They were accusing me of destroying their headquarters!"

Snape shook his head, still grinning. "Obviously, Potter, you have quite an imagination, but no talent for lying," he said.

"He only brought me here because he's in league with Voldemort!" said Harry.

"Severus, I am cancelling the detention you have given to Gryffindor House," said the headmaster.

"What!" protested Snape.

"In light of these wizards, who can ignore the Anti-Disapparation Charm, it is unsafe for students to be out of their dormitories at night."

"You don't actually _believe_ Potter, do you?"

"Severus, that is my final word." And with that, Harry was allowed to leave. At the bottom of the stairs, Snape stopped him again.

"You got lucky, _this time_, Potter. But mark my words: Before this year is over, I shall have your wand." Snape glared dangerously at Harry.

"Before this year is over," responded Harry, "you'll be in Azkaban."

"We'll see about that, Potter. But don't be surprised when I turn out to be right, as _you_ rarely are."


	2. Disenchanted

Chapter 2: Disenchanted 

That night, Harry dreamed that he was walking through the Gryffindor Shopping Mall, searching for somebody. There were many automatic, sliding glass doors. He suddenly realized that he was being followed. The follower was a large, beefy man with a purple face. "You're not a wizard anymore, boy!" snarled the man.

Harry ran through a series of glass corridors, each separated by an automatic sliding glass door, until he reached the Portrait Hole. He heard glass crashing behind him, and turned to see the purple-faced man crashing furiously through the glass instead of following the labyrinthine corridors formed by the glass.

Then, he realized that he couldn't remember the password! The Fat Lady stared at him with lifeless eyes. Something was wrong. He turned again. This time, instead of a purple-faced man, he saw a white-faced one: a tall, skeletally thin man with red, snake-like eyes. The glass was simply smashing of its own accord to get out of his way. Beside this man was another, with black, flowing robes, and a thin, sallow face.

Harry tried to remember the password, but then noticed a circular, plastic button set in a rectangular metal plaque. The button had a triangle on it, indicating that it was a lift call button, and that the lift went up. He pushed it, and it glowed a dull orange.

"You can't escape from the Dark Lord, Muggle!" said Snape. He was waving a wand-- Harry's wand.

Lord Voldemort was almost there, and the Fat Lady finally swung open with an electronic "Ding!" revealing the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry jumped through the Portrait Hole, and slammed it shut behind him, just as he heard a hissing, spitting voice gurgle "Avada Kedavra!" on the outside. And, he found the person he was looking for.

"Oi, Harry!" said Ron cheerfully. His silver Prefect badge glittered in the sunlight, only it wasn't a Prefect badge, but a British Airways badge, just like the ones worn by pilots. Harry felt as though the entire Common Room was moving upward very quickly as he heard a man's voice over a radio saying "Cleared for takeoff runway two one left". The acceleration was making him heavy as he struggled to sit next to Ron.

Just then, the Common Room slowed, stopped, and then started moving down. It started _falling_ down. Harry, Ron, the furniture, and the flaming wood in the grate all became weightless and started to drift about the room. "Albus, we have a problem," said the voice over the radio. Harry remembered that Snape had taken his broomstick as well as his wand.

"You know, Harry," said Ron, stretching a seat belt over himself that was somehow attached to the couch, "we're gonna die when this lift hits the bottom of the shaft." Ron's face became rigid like a person having a seizure. His eyes rolled back into his head, and foam issued from his mouth. He began to convulse. Suddenly, Ron's head bent back and then snapped off, as though an invisible troll had torn it free. Then, Ron's entire body burst, his blood splattering in every direction. The bottom would come at any moment...

Harry awoke, and heard himself screaming frantically. He was alone. After a moment, a wave of relief passed over him as he realized that the Common Room was not a lift falling to the bottom of a shaft, Ron did not really explode, and Snape did not really take his wand and his Firebolt.

Harry put on his robes, and went downstairs. The Common Room was empty. Everybody had already gone to breakfast.

When Harry exited the Gryffindor common room, he found Neville outside the portrait hole.

"Don't let the portrait close!" cried Neville. But it was too late. The portrait door was closed.

"What's the matter, Neville? Did you forget the password _again_?"

"_No_," said Neville indignantly. "At least, er, I don't think so. It's 'Permanent Incantation,' right?"

"That sounds right. You mean it didn't work?" Harry decided to try the password, himself: "Permanent Incantation," but the Fat Lady did not answer. In fact, she didn't move at all. She just stared at him with cold, lifeless eyes. A chill ran down Harry's spine as he remembered his dream. She was as still as a Muggle portrait.

Just then, he saw two figures closing in from the other end of the corridor. It was Hermione, leading Professor McGonagall. Hermione was also a Prefect.

"Good morning, Potter, Longbottom," said the old, strict woman. "Permanent Incantation." When the portrait just smiled at her with those cold, lifeless eyes, Professor McGonagall said "Oh my."

"Where's Dumbledore?" asked Harry.

Hermione started to answer, but Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly and Hermione was silenced. "That's _Professor_ Dumbledore, Potter, and he said he was busy with some very important business."

The professor walked up to the portrait and pulled at the edge. It came open with no resistance. "You may enter, Longbottom." Neville scrambled inside.

Harry decided that he was tired and confused, and decided to go on to the Great Hall for breakfast. "Are you coming to breakfast, Hermione?"

"Er, no, I'm too busy helping Professor McGonagall," said Hermione. "I'll see you in Potions."

"Er, I guess," said Harry, feeling that she had snubbed him.

The Great Hall was dark, except for dozens of tiny points of bluish-white light, glimmering from the tips of students' wands. When Harry took his seat, he found that he needed to light his own wand to be able to see his breakfast.

"What has happened to the ceiling?" asked Harry to Ron. The sky did not show in the ceiling. Instead, it had the appearance of solid stone.

"The whole school's gone Muggle" said Ron, with his mouth full of porridge.

"What?"

"Rvry enchtrt hmph disafeara!" mumbled Ron through an even bigger mouthful of porridge.

"Ron, I can't understand you with your mouth full, could you swallow first?" Ron mumbled incoherently. Harry then said, "Hmmphum cah fumphustuph fumbum out foo!"

Ron, getting the point, struggled to swallow, and then said, "Every enchantment in the castle has been dispelled! It's as if this was just an ordinary castle! Dumbledore's trying to re-do the Anti-Disapparation Charm right now."

"I wonder if that 'Captain' bloke is behind this," mused Harry. After all, the so-called 'Captain' and his men Apparated onto the grounds. Perhaps the Anti-Disapparation Charm had already been dispelled at that point.

"You don't think that cap'n's in league with You-Know-Who, do you?"

"Damn it, Ron," swore Harry, "just say Voldemort!" Harry was sick and tired of everybody around him being afraid to use the name. Ron flinched at Harry's use of it. "And yes, he is definitely in league with Voldemort." Ron grimaced. "Why else would he want to get rid of Hogwarts magic?"

"Hello, Potter," said a cold, familiar voice. It was Snape, who had been standing right behind him. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your language."

"What language, English?" Harry was used to speaking first and then thinking later, which had got him in trouble with Snape many, many times in the past.

"Swearing is not tolerated at Hogwarts. You also have detention Saturday, for your cheek. I think that even our biased Headmaster will let _this_ detention stand. Good day, Famous Harry Potter," and with that, Snape strode off, with a smug expression on his face.

On their way to the Potions classroom, which was above ground this year, Harry surveyed the grounds through one of the castle's windows, expecting that at any moment, the grounds would be swarming with Dementors. As he did this, he spotted someone dressed in red. It was the Captain, flanked by the pasty-faced bloke and the bearded man. They were talking with Dumbledore.

As the four wizards conversed on the lawn, Dumbledore was waving his wand furiously at the castle. Sparks and bolts of many different colors were flying from the tip.

Harry grabbed Ron by the robe, who said "Hey!" This caught Hermione's attention as well. "It's that 'Captain' again! He's talking to Dumbledore!" Harry exclaimed. "If only I didn't leave the Invisibility Cloak in the dormitory!"

"We have to get to class!" said Hermione. She was right. Slughorn would notice if they skipped class to spy on Dumbledore.

The potions classroom was filled with sunlight. There were several long tables, with seats for two students per table. Each table had a beaker filled with red liquid, and a bowl filled with aconite.

"Today's lesson shall be easy," said Professor Slughorn, as he stood in front of the blackboard. "We shall be making a Draught of Regrowth. It causes severed limbs to regrow."

Harry thought of the time that his father chopped off his hand. He had to have it replaced with a robotic one. But then he realized that the whole affair was only a science-fiction movie he had seen on television once. It was Luke Skywalker's father and hand, not Harry Potter's. Oh well, it would have been just as painful.

"The red liquid you see before you is the saliva from the Bolivian Giant Nuclear-Warhead-Ended Skrewt," continued Slughorn. Slughorn was a very fat, old, and bald man, with a white mustache that gave him the appearance of a walrus. "If you open your book to page 342, you will find the recipe."

Harry opened his edition of the potions textbook to page 342. As everybody else struggled trying to make a potion that was supposed to be green, Harry followed the corrected instructions written in his textbook by the Half-Blood Prince. Harry's potion was the only one to come out right. This Half-Blood Prince seemed pretty cool. Harry wondered what this Prince's real name could be. He only hoped he didn't have a really stupid name, like Severus Snape. That would be lame, Harry thought. But Harry was sure that someone as cool as the Half-Blood Prince would never grow up to become as lame as Snape.

After Potions, Harry had a break. It was raining now, so Harry and Ron agreed to take their break in the Great Hall. Hermione wanted to spend it in the library, but was convinced by the other two to go to the Great Hall. On their way there, they encountered Professor Dumbledore. In the dark of the corridor, Dumbledore's twinking eyes seemed like Christmas tree lights.

"Harry, I need a word with you in my office."

"What about?"

"Something very important. I'll tell you when we get there. Tell your friends goodbye."

This pissed Harry off. "They're coming too, or I'm not going," was his response.

"Very well," said the old man. He adjusted his half-moon spectacles. "This concerns them, as well."

Dumbledore's office was still filled with various, and probably useless gadgets, which he was always collecting. They were piled up everywhere. Some of the fragments of things that Harry broke after Dumbledore got Sirius killed were still lying around. The walls were clear of all former headmaster portraits.

"Hey, there's no paintings of dead headmasters," observed Ron.

"Colin Creevey is helping me to get all the portraits in the castle re-enchanted."

"Okay," said Harry, "so let's get down to it. What do you want with us?"

Professor Dumbledore sat in his chair. He surveyed Harry, Ron, and Hermione, with twinkling eyes, as though he wasn't sure they were ready to hear what he was going to tell them. He swiveled around in his chair, and when he faced Harry again, he was holding the Pensieve, which he placed on the desk. He motioned for Harry to dip his head into the stone basin.

Harry bowed until his face touched the silver surface. He fell into the Pensieve, and landed right in front of a young, hairy version of Professor Slughorn. He heard someone speaking behind him, saying "Sir, I wanted to ask you something." Harry spun arround and saw that Lord Voldemort as a teenager was the speaker. Ron, Hermione, and Dumbledore eached dropped in beside Harry at this point.

"Ask away, then, m'boy. Ask away."

"Sir, I wondered what you know about... about Horcruxes."

Suddenly, a white fog filled the room, and through the fog, Harry could hear Slughorn speaking loudly, as though through an amplifier. He said, "_I don't know anything about Horcruxes, you filthy hellspawn, and I wouldn't tell you if I did! Now get out of here at once and don't let me catch you mentioning them again!_"

"Well, that's that," said Dumbledore stupidly beside Harry. "Time to go."

And Harry's feet left the floor, and he landed momentarily on the rug in front of Dumbledore's desk. He then saw Ron, followed by Hermione, being thrown feet-first from the Pensieve. Finally, Dumbledore emerged. His eyes twinkled like a homing beacon.

"As you can see," said Dumbledore, "this memory has been tampered with."

"Tampered with?" said Harry. "You mean that white fog wasn't originally there? I thought that was what you wanted to show me! That looks like some wicked dark magic!"

"Harry, don't be daft," said Hermione. "Obviously, there's something that Slughorn doesn't want us to know!"

"Bloody hell!" said Ron.

"The original memory is still there, underneath the fog," said Dumbledore, "and the men you encountered yesterday believe that they can repair the memory so that we may see the entire thing."

"You mean you're going to trust those dark wizards who tried to kidnap me?" Harry asked incredulously. "_Now_ look who's being daft, Hermione!"

"Harry," protested Hermione, "you have to trust Dumbledore!"

"But he's an oaf!" said Harry, not caring that Dumbledore was right next to him. "He'd give Voldemort himself a second chance if he asked for one!"

"I'm a lot smarter than you, Harry." Harry felt a twinge of rage, being just smart enough to realize that Dumbledore was in effect calling _him_ stupid. "Don't you forget that I am a Legilimens. Using Legilimency, I was able to discern that the men aren't wizards after all."

"What?" Hermione said. "But how can Muggles penetrate Hogwarts' magical protections?"

"These Muggles appear to be in possession of extremely advanced technomancy."

"Techn_ology_," Harry corrected.

"Whatever. They have instruments that can perform many different kinds of magic. They accidentally removed every enchantment from this castle because the enchantments showed up as 'anomalies' on their devices."

"So how does this--" Harry started.

"_I'm not finished, Harry,_" Dumbledore said, sharply, as the twinkle left his eyes breifly. "They believe that this is the Twenty-Fourth Century, and that something has happened to their headquarters, which they believe to be located in San Francisco. They also believe that _this_ is San Francisco, and that this castle is on the site of their headquarters."

"So let's give them a map so they can tell the difference between England and America, and be done with it!" Harry said, in what sounded almost like a sneer.

"I have educated them," continued Dumbledore, as though Harry had not spoken, "about Lord Voldemort, and they are currently under the impression that he is responsible for hiding their headquarters. Thus, they have invited you and me to their ship for dinner tonight. While we are there, they will repair the memory."

"And while we're there, we can give them the map," said Harry.

"Yes, and we can give them the map," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling madly. "Meet me on the grounds in one hour, and bring your invisibility cloak."

"You can walk into Voldemort's trap by yourself, thanks, I plan on practicing for the Ravenclaw match next week."

"You can practice on the ship, my dear boy," said Dumbledore.

"I'm not your dear boy," muttered Harry.

"Harry, Dumbledore knows what he's talking about," said Hermione.

"Bloody hell!" said Ron.

"Well, you can go with him, Hermione," said Harry. "Ron, let's go practice, (you bloody well need it)." He muttered the last part.

"What was that, mate?" said Ron.

"I said, we'll bloody well beat them!" And with that, Ron and Harry went to the Common Room to get their brooms.

Half an hour later, Harry and Ron were on the Quidditch field with their broomsticks and a quaffle. Harry got six shots in a row past Ron.

"You know, Ron, you could try actually _guarding_ the hoops," said Harry.

"Bloody hell, Harry! I bloody well _am_ guarding them!"

At that moment, Harry heard a sound like several crystal glasses chiming. He turned to look, but began to feel light-headed. The field seemed to melt away, and in its place, there was an enclosed, excessively clean, brightly-lit room. Harry felt his legs straighten, and his feet met the floor. For a moment, Harry thought he was in Petunia's kitchen. Across the room, Data, Dumbledore, and Hermione were standing next to each other.

The rear wall of the room was emblazoned with a blue tapestry, which featured a field of stars in a circle, the phrase "USS Enterprise," and a serial number: NCC-1701-J.


	3. NCC1701J

**_Chapter 3: NCC-1701-J_**

"Welcome aboard," said Data. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lieutenant Commander Data, and this is Lieutenant Commander LaForge," he said, indicating a black man with a hair band over his eyes, who was standing behind a desk at the back of the room.

"What kind of stupid name is 'Data'?" said Harry.

"Harry!" scolded Hermione, but she was ignored.

"I do not understand what you mean by 'stupid.' A name does not possess any intelligence of its own," said Data.

"Oh, I see," said Harry. "So, you're name is stupid because _you're_ stupid."

"Harry, that was uncalled for," said Dumbledore, with eyes twinkling.

Data apparently wasn't bothered by having been called stupid. He approached Harry, and with a puzzled look on his face, said "Why are you holding a broom between your legs?"

Dumbledore coughed, as though to indicate that he did not want Harry to answer. Therefore, Harry bent his knees, to show Data how a broomstick can hover.

Data was quite interested in the display. He said, "Fascinating! I have never seen a primitive janitorial instrument used for flight. Unfortunately, I do not have my tricorder with me at the moment. It would be intriguing to know how your flying broom works. Does it perhaps use a miniature impulse engine?"

"It's magic!" said Harry.

"Now this kid's something else!" said Lieutenant Commander LaForge, from behind his desk. "If you dyed you hair the color of your friend's hair, you could pass for Arthur Weasley."

"Bloody hell!" said Ron. "You know my dad?"

"I was talking about the _scientist_ Arthur Weasley, who lived in the twenty-first century. He always joked that his research was 'magic.' I could take you to see him, if you like."

Ron seemed to be dumbfounded.

Hermione was speechless.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"You mean you have his remains?" said Harry. Somehow, he remembered the bit about them thinking it was the twenty-fourth century. Ron seemed to catch on, too.

"No, no!" said LaForge, shaking his head. "We have a _simulation_ of Dr. Weasley on the Holodeck."

Harry wasn't even _going_ to ask what _that_ meant. He was more interested to know, "Are we in a hospital?"

"You're not in a hospital," said LaForge. "You're on a starship. The _USS Enterprise-J_, to be exact, in orbit around Earth. We were supposed to report to Starfleet Headquarters, but your school seems to be standing where Headquarters are supposed to be."

"About that," said Harry, intending to set things straight. "I understand that this Headquarters is in San--"

"Bloody hell!" interrupted Ron. "You mean we're in _space_ right now?"

"Well duh," said LaForge. "That's generally where you find a _starship_. Now, if you'll follow me, I'll take you to Ten Forward."

"What's Ten Forward?" asked Hermione.

"I see you've never been on a _Galaxy-class_ starship," said LaForge, as if "Galaxy-class" was a highly privileged attribute for a starship to have. "Ten Forward is our lounge and recreation facility."

LaForge left his desk, and Data turned towards a metal door, which immediately slid open with an ear-splitting _SCHHWEET!_

"Bloody hell!" said Ron.

"You might want to put some WD-40 on that," said Harry.

"WD-_what_?" said LaForge.

Extending in both directions from the door was a slightly curved hallway. Keeping with the hospital motif, it was very brightly lit, and exceedingly clean. People in multi-colored uniforms of the same design as Data's and LaForge's were travelling down the hall. There were doors at regular intervals on both sides. Sometimes, a door would open. Harry noticed that they _all_ seemed to be in severe need of WD-40. If Harry ever returned to this ship, he would be sure to bring a can.

Presently, they reached an offshoot from the main hallway, which ended in a door. Unlike the other doors, this door had two sliding panels instead of just one. In yellow, slender, capital letters, the word _TURBOLIFT_ was printed on the left panel. Seeming to sense their presence, the door of the turbolift hissed open, very loudly, and LaForge led the group into the lift.

When the door closed, LaForge said "Deck ten, section one." Harry felt a brief surge of upward movement. Given its name, Harry thought that this "turbo" lift would move a bit faster.

"You'll find Ten Forward to be quite enjoyable," said LaForge. "We have a wide selection of syntheholic beverages from across the Alpha Quadrant."

"_Syntheholic?_" said Hermione, with a puzzled expression.

"That's what I said," said LaForge, not seeming to realize that Hermione was not simply making sure that she heard correctly.

Harry wondered who these people were, that they drank beverages containing prescription drugs.

"Is that _synthetic_ alcohol?" continued Hermione.

"It's a chemical variant of alcohol, without the harmful effects," said LaForge. "The Ferengi invented it."

Presently, the turbolift came to a stop. It then began to move _sideways_.

"Dumbledore," began Harry. Something startling had just occurred to him. Why hadn't any wizards been to space? Harry had never heard of _any_ wizard having been to distant stars, the planets, or even walking on the Moon, a feat which Muggles were proud of having accomplished, completely without the aid of magic.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Can Voldemort get into outer space?" Ron and Hermione flinched, but nobody else on the lift seemed to be affected by the name.

"I don't know," said Dumbledore.

If wizards were really so powerful, why didn't _they_ have a spaceship? _Because wizards _can't _travel through space,_ answered a small voice in his head. _Their magic just isn't that powerful._ All of a sudden, Harry felt a profound sense of safety. No matter what happened down there, there would be no Voldemort up here.

Just then, the turbolift came to a stop once again. There was a deafening hiss as the doors opened. Outside, was another hallway, just like the one that was there when they entered. Everybody stepped outside.

"We haven't moved!" said Harry, as the turbolift doors closed with a deafening sound.

"Don't be daft!" said Hermione.

LaForge led them on further, and stopped at one of the doors, which hissed as it opened.

"I'm _definitely_ bringing some WD-40 next time," said Harry.

Behind the door was a small room, with another door. LaForge walked up to this door, which hissed open loudly. Behind _that_ door, Harry could hear many people talking.

When he reached the second door, he could see a large room that resembled a pub. On Harry's left, there were tables with flourescent lights set into them. Further to the left, there was a series of gaping black holes, through which Harry could see a very bright light of some kind. It felt as though they were in daylight. The very bright light was moving upwards slowly.

Nearest to Harry, just slightly off to the right, was the thing that Harry assumed to be the bar. Behind it there was a familiar-looking woman. In fact, it looked exactly like... Whoopi Goldberg!

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, Data, and Laforge all lined up at the bar. LaForge introduced Ms. Goldberg to the wizards (and the witch, too), but for some reason, called her by a name that Harry would have spelled as "Gynin" if he had to write it.

Guinan surveyed the group, with their wizards' robes and pointy wizards' hats, before remarking: "Are you supposed to be wizards or something?" She received no answer, and continued with: "So, what'll it be?"

"I'll have some scotch," said Dumbledore.

Guinan lowered her head to the bar and spoke into it: "Scotch. Straight." A glass of scotch appeared there just as though she had conjured it with a wand.

Harry decided to try it himself. He lowered his mouth to the bar and said "Butterbeer."

"Specify," replied a voice, which seemed to be coming from the bar.

Harry tried again. "Butterbeer."

"Specify," replied the bar.

Perhaps the bar only knew how to conjure Muggle drinks. "Beer," said Harry.

"Specify," replied the bar. "Budweiser, Michelob, Heineken, Foster's---"

"Foster's," said Harry.

"Specify," replied the bar. "Cold, hot, warm, lukewarm, frozen, gaseous, plasma---"

"Warm," said Harry.

"Specify," replied the bar. This seemed absurdly difficult.

LaForge said "Romulan Ale, please." The bar did not conjure it, nor did it say "Specify." Instead, Guinan said "Empty glass," which appeared there, and then she produced a bottle of blue liquid from beneath the bar, and poured it.

"I'll have what he's having," said Harry.

"Me too," said Ron.

"Beer. Heineken. Warm, Draught." said Hermione. A glass of beer appeared before her.

Harry chugged his glass of Romulan ale, which burned on the way down, like a strong whiskey. He looked behind him at the gaping black holes. The bright light slowly moved upwards, until it was out of view. Now, Harry could see what looked suspiciously like stars. It got significantly darker, though there seemed to be blue light entering through the black holes.

Before long, he was having a wonderful floating sensation, which he instantly recognized as the main symptom of the Imperius Curse. He felt totally relieved from all responsibility. But there was no voice in his head telling him to do anything. Was this caused by the ale? Harry didn't feel like thinking. The feeling seemed to last forever. He floated up to the gaping holes for a closer look. Below him, he felt as if he could see the whole world, all at once. But everything was like a dream.

* * *

The next thing that Harry remembered was a terrible headache. He found himself lying on his back. There was somebody standing over him. Harry strained to make his eyes focus. It seemed like his eyes weren't too keen on pointing in the same direction. He closed one eye, and got a brief glimpse of a hideous-looking woman with reddish-brown hair.

"How are you doing?" said the woman. Her voice wasn't as hideous as her face.

"Who the fuck are you?" said Harry. "Where's Ron?"

"Harry! I'm right here. Owww." Ron's voice came from Harry's left.

"You boys need rest. You are suffering from Romulan ale hangover," said the woman.

"What time is it?" moaned Harry. He realized that he was in another windowless room.

"It's eleven hundred hours," said the woman.

Eleven hundred hours. Wasn't that the military way of saying eleven o'clock in the morning? Had they been here overnight? Harry started to sit up, but suddenly felt very sick to his stomach. Vomit belched from his mouth and landed all over him.

"Damn it!" said the woman. "You need to lay down!"

An hour seemed to pass, with Harry and Ron laying there, silently. Harry felt sick whenever he talked. Presently, Harry heard the ever-more familiar _SCHHWEEEET!_ sound of one of the rusty doors of this place opening. A pompous-sounding Briton was speaking.

"Dr. Crusher, I need these two in Engineering immediately," he said.

"But Captain, they're suffering from--"

Harry groaned. Not _him_ again.

"That's an order, Doctor," said the Captain's voice.

The woman, whom Harry figured to be Dr. Crusher, gave Harry a change of clothes that looked very much like the uniform worn by the Captain. The clothes fit perfectly.

Harry and Ron followed the Captain into the hallway outside.

"Wow," croaked Harry, his throat still burning with vomit. "All the hallways around here look exactly the same."

The Captain quickened his pace, seeming to be nonplussed by the remark. He reached the doors to a turbolift. They had to wait for it this time.

Harry and Ron stood on the opposite side of the hallway from the Captain, who stared at them uncomfortably.

"Where did you get that uniform?" said the Captain.

"The doctor gave it to me," replied Harry. His uniform differed from the captain only in its lack of a chest pin and little buttons on the collar.

"What is your name?" said the Captain.

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"I am a Starfleet Captain. It is considered proper to address me as 'sir.'"

"Harry Potter, _sir,_" said Harry, starting to get pissed off.

"Ensign Potter," said the Captain.

"Sorry, sir?"

"That will be your name, once you graduate from Starfleet Academy," said the Captain, grinning.

Finally, the doors to the turbolift opened and the three entered. "Informatics," said the Captain. The lift seemed to move slightly.

"What's going on?" said Ron.

"Mr. LaForge is going to fix that memory your professor has for us," said the Captain. "Then we'll continue our investigation into Starfleet Headquarters."

The turbolift stopped, and the doors screeched as they opened. "Captain," said Harry.

"Yes, Mr. Potter," said the Captain, striding out of the turbolift.

"Would you consider getting your maintenance crew to do something about these doors?" Harry followed the Captain down another hallway, which was identical to all the other hallways that Harry had seen so far. Ron followed Harry. Behind them, the turbolift's doors screeched to a close.

"Why? Nothing's wrong with them," said the Captain. He stopped in front of a door with _INFORMATICS_ printed on it, in slender, yellow, capital letters. It screeched just as loudly as the turbolift doors.

"They're a bit noisy," said Harry, following the Captain into a clinically-sterile room.

"Noisy? What, these?" said the Captain. The door screeched shut behind them. It dawned on Harry that the Captain might have lived his whole life without ever seeing an automatic sliding door that didn't hiss or screech loudly as it opened and closed.

"Harry! Ron!" Harry briefly felt the bushy hair of Hermione brush against his face as she embraced him, before she moved on to Ron.

"How come you didn't get ill?" asked Harry.

"I didn't drink that Romulan ale stuff," said Hermione.

LaForge and Dumbledore were standing together next to a recess in the wall to Harry's right.

"Geordi!" said the Captain.

LaForge spun around on his heels. "Yes, sir!"

"At ease," said the Captain. "I'd like you to meet your future shipmate, the future Ensign Harry Potter!" He grabbed Harry by the shoulder and pushed him forward.

"We've already met," said LaForge. "So you want to be a Starfleet engineer, do you?"

"Erm," said Harry.

"I'll bet you'd make a great engineer," said LaForge. "I was about to start analyzing that memory of yours right now." He turned back to Dumbledore. "Can I see it?" he asked.

Dumbledore produced a small crystal bottle that was filled with what looked like silvery-white liquid and gave it to LaForge. LaForge poured it onto the ledge of the recess in the wall. He stared at it closely.

"Wow! I've never seen anything like this!" said LaForge, as he touched buttons that were also on the ledge in the recess. "This stuff is made of pure psychometric nadions! It'll take a minute for the computer to decypher the data representation method."

Harry and Ron exchanged looks. A few minutes passed. LaForge pressed some more buttons. "Aha! Here it is," declared LaForge.

Just then, an image appeared in the wall above the recess in the wall. It was a television image of the memory. It showed Riddle asking his question, and it also showed the white fog.

"So that _is_ the real memory!" said Harry. "I knew it! Voldemort" (Ron and Hermione winced) "must be capable of creating a white mist that makes your voice sound loud!"

"Shut up, Harry," said Hermione.

LaForge pressed some more buttons. "Let me try to enhance it with a quadratic, bipolar fractal algorithm," he said. The memory then re-played on the television screen. This time, it was much longer.

"Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away..." said Slughorn, on the screen.

"Sir, I wondered what you know about...about Horcruxes?" said Riddle.

"Well, let's see... A Horcrux is an object in which a witch or wizard has hidden a piece of their soul."

"But how does it work, sir?" said Riddle. He seemed desperately eager for the information, but Slughorn didn't seem to notice.

"Well, you split your soul, you see," said Slughorn, "and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if one's body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged. But of course, existence in such a form... Few would want it, Tom, very few. Death would be preferable."

"How do you split your soul?"

"Well," said Slughorn uncomfortably, "you must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. But, to do it, all you have to do is kill someone, which tears your soul in two. You then encase the torn portion in a Horcrux."

"But how do you do that?"

"There is a spell, but I don't know it. If I happen to hear anything about the spell, I'll let you know."

"What if you ripped your soul into seven pieces? Wouldn't that make you completely invincible?" asked Tom.

"Merlin's beard, Tom! Who'd want to have their soul in _seven_ pieces?"

The video ended.

"_That_ is what we went through all this trouble to decode?" said LaForge in disbelief.

"This may perhaps be the most useful clue we've found so far about how Voldemort has survived!" said Dumbledore.

"Does this mean that Slughorn knows the countercurse to the white fog curse?" said Harry.

"Harry! You _are_ daft!" said Hermione.

"Harry! Did you hear a word that Slughorn said?" said Dumbledore. "_Think_ about it! Voldemort hid his soul in six objects! You destroyed one, and I burned my hand trying to destroy another!"

"_I've_ destroyed one? When was that?"

"Merlin's beard, I wish there was a Draught of Intellect!"

Just then, a voice issued from the ceiling: "Riker to Picard!"

The Captain responded: "Yes, Number One."

"Your presence is requested on the bridge immediately!"

"On my way," said the Captain as he rushed through the screechy doors.


End file.
